The Betrothal

Kiddushin

The Betrothal portion of the ceremony consists of a
preliminary benediction, the marriage proposal, and the giving of the ring.
Fundamentally, it is a ceremony of acquisition. "When a man acquires a wife"
(Deuteronomy 24:1) are words that fall harshly on contemporary ears. We blush at
retaining ancient modes and terms that offend our sensitivities and egalitarian
sentiments—acquire, indeed! But the wisdom of the Torah, the insightfulness of
the talmudic teachers and the sense of balance of the religious tradition, which
has experienced thirty-five centuries of marriage, deserves comprehension, not
apologies. For all its apparent incongruity with modern thinking, the ancient
ways express enduring values. If we dig beneath the deceptively simple surface,
we find that these values have surprising relevance for the twentieth century.

The Need for Formal Acquisition

As noted earlier, it is remarkable that love and sex, which
are so unpredictable and explosive, should serve as the foundations of family
life. The concept of marriage as acquisition was the first step in
domesticating, channeling, and making productive the passion and romance of love
and desire. The key word in the Bible, note the Rabbis of the Talmud, is
kichah. It is mentioned twice, both times in different contexts. One refers
to marriage, ki yikach ish ishah, when a man takes a woman. The other
refers to Abraham’s purchase of a field from Ephron, which he buys for the
burial of Sarah (Genesis 23:13). What is the common denominator? According to
the Talmud, we learn the significance of the kichah of marriage from the
kichah of the field of Ephron. Kichah signified a transfer of money
for the field, thus in marriage kichah means that a wife is "acquired" by
her husband through a transfer of money (the groom gives the bride an object of
value worth not less than a perutah, an insignificant coin). Ramban
noted long ago that in making the analogy to money for purchase, the Sages of
the Talmud did not intend to equate marriage with property, but only to define a
mode of legal conveyance.

The Halakhah insists on a technically legalkinyan in order to create the new relationship. The woman now becomes
eshet ish (a married woman), permitted to no other man, and the husband and
wife become subject to the prohibited incestuous relationships with each other’s
closest relatives. Society could not create marriage out of what was merely a
well-intentioned promise, or an agreeable arrangement, or a statement of shared
goals, however noble these were. It required a formal, binding kinyan.

When Maimonides sketches the history of marriage from the
primitive meeting on the street to formal marriage and, possibly, formal
divorce, he is saying that the "acquisition" formalizes and crystallizes an
otherwise amorphous relationship. Marriage is established through its framework:
a formal beginning, a formal ending, and an acknowledged and accepted period of
changed status and obligations. For example, betrothal by contract is derived
from the need of formal divorce; in Hebrew this is expressed, ve’yatze’ah
ve’hayeta (she goes out of one marriage and into another). As the "going out," a
divorce, is accomplished by written document, her "coming in," marrying, is by
written document (referring to the second mode of kinyan). There must be
in that formal beginning and ending, whether it is expressed in writing, or in
action, a moment when society declares a change in the new relationship. The
marriage formula declares the woman prohibited to all other men, the divorce
formula that she is permitted to all other men. What "clinches" the formula’s
capacity to create a new reality is the kinyan, a physical act designed
specifically to seal the idea of the word and formalize it before witnesses, the
representatives of society.

The use of the purchase of property as the model of
marriage "acquisition" is carefully developed. People readily understand the
responsibilities of land ownership, but may not appreciate the responsibilities
of marriage and family. The headiness of love and shared hope cloud the
realities of the couple’s new situation. Young couples often feel that a love
relationship is informal and should be celebrated festively, not with contracts,
acquisitions, and other legalities. This hazy, undefined togetherness, however,
makes for casual arrangements and hit-or-miss relationships. By using the word
kichah in two different contexts, the Rabbis associated marriage with
property transfer and thus insisted that marriage be initiated formally and
seriously as a permanent bond.

A permanent bond means specific laws that do not by
themselves take into account the prevailing individual sentiment. No amount of
love, for example, can lawfully permit a bride to contract a marriage by
agreeing to accept as a marriage gift an object worth less than a pe’rutah.
The reverse is also true. A pe’rutah is a minimum legal unit, not one
instituted for her honor or to serve as a gift of love. If it were, the bride
could insist that her honor and love require an exorbitant sum. Like the
daughters of the Talmudic sage, Rabbi Yannai, she could assert that her honor
deserves much more than a lowly pe’rutah—perhaps a barrelful of
dinarim. The marriage gift is designed not to express personal worth, but to
fulfill the technical legal requirements of formal acquisition.

Judaism must protect the family from the tempestuousness of
sex, the alternating patterns of love, the sudden ups and downs of very close
relationships. Just as the buyer of property intends to protect it, develop it,
make it productive, and cherish it, this must also be the plan of those who
undertake marriage. Because he bought the land, Abraham returned to it. Of
course, he also returned to it because he buried his wife there, but the
purchase of property was his investment in the Promised Land—it rooted him in a
land to which his only tie had been spiritual. Jeremiah purchased property to
demonstrate to his fellow Jews that despite impending destruction, a Jew must be
tied to his land (32:6—16). So, indeed, the bond between man and woman—though
qualitatively different from man’s relationship with his property—must be
responsible, firm, intelligent, and able to weather the most unfavorable
conditions.

As the formal acquisition transferred the property from
someone else’s proprietorship, or from hefker (a state of abandonment and
ownerlessness) to his personal care and protection, so the establishment of
formal kinyan in marriage rescued family life from hefker. In this
way, the formalizing of the marriage bond made it possible for the family to
become the foundation of all society and the pattern for all government as well
as the governance of the "family of nations."

Before Sinai, married life was a loose, voluntary
arrangement, a sort of ye’duah be’tzibbur (common law) situation. If two
people wished to live together, they did. If a woman desired another man, she
could not be accused of adultery. If she wanted to move out, she did. Just as in
our "living together" situations of today, there were no binding ties. Under
such conditions, the legal protections of the family, such as the husband’s
obligation of support, honor, and fidelity, are at best fond hopes. At the drop
of a shoe or a loud snore, children can be orphaned from one parent for life. It
is abundantly clear that this can and does occur, and couples who cohabit
undergo "premarital divorce" in our day. The informal arrangement was the old
institution of concubinage (pileggesh), which Maimonides affirms was the
relationship of a man and his exclusive girlfriend, without benefit of a formal
marriage and marriage contract.

By formalizing marriage, Judaism saved marriage. By
stamping it "legal acquisition," it made firm that which was vague and inchoate.
It held the family fast—so fast that the family eventually held together the
whole exiled and hopelessly dispersed Jewish community. This is surely hinted at
in the betrothal blessing, when G‑d is praised as me’kadesh ammo Yisrael al
ye’dei chuppah ve’kiddushin, "He who sanctifies his people Israel through
marriage and betrothal." Through the laws of marriage, G‑d enhances family life,
personal morality, and Jewish survival. Rabbi David Abudarham, a medieval
liturgical commentator, said, "When we recite in our prayers ‘G‑d who sanctified
us,’ we may interpret it ‘G‑d who married us,’ " for the Hebrew root of both
"sanctified" and "married" is k-d-sh.

Acquisition Is Not Ownership

We can understand the Talmudic Rabbis’ concept of marriage
not only by what they derived from the comparison between property acquisition
and marital acquisition, but also by what they rejected in it. Generally
speaking, there are two concepts of property ownership: (1) an owner has the
right only to use the property to achieve his ends; and (2) an owner exerts
total power over the property. Philosopher Morris Raphael Cohen once defined
property as nothing more than the sovereign power to exclude others.

While one could make a good case for the use concept of
property, which ultimately belongs to G‑d, there is nothing in Judaism that
would not permit espousal of Cohen’s power theory. We own property during our
tenure on earth and, even if our ownership is not metaphysically absolute,
politically we have exclusive sovereignty over that property. That is how
society understands "private" property. One interpretation of kichah,
therefore, implies exclusivity. When a man "takes" a wife, he chooses one woman
and, with her consent, makes her his life-long partner. She has no other
husband. This idea of exclusivity is derived from the concept of property
ownership.

More specifically, the Talmud derives its interpretation of
exclusivity from the acquisition of temple property, rather than from secular
property acquisition. (The Talmud uses two terms for betrothal, which appear,
respectively, as the titles of the first two chapters of the tractate
Kiddushin. The first is Ha-ishah Niknet, [A Woman Is Acquired]; the
second is Ha-Ish Me’kadesh [A Man Sanctifies]. The Talmud continues: "At
the beginning the author uses the biblical term niknet, ‘acquired,’ while
he later employs a rabbinical one, me’-kadesh, ‘sanctifies.’ What is the
meaning of the rabbinical term sanctify? He forbids her to all other males, like
something hekdesh, dedicated to the sanctuary, which is exclusively its
property." Thus in marriage a wife is permitted to her husband but not to any
other man; she is exclusive to this partnership.)

The rabbinic application of kichah to temple
property is basic to an understanding of Jewish marriage. If we were to derive
the lesson from civil property transfer alone, we could say that exclusivity is
a result of ownership. A man owns property and no one else may trespass on it.
Transposed to marriage, this would imply that the wife is exclusive to her
husband as a consequence of his ownership of her person. Such an idea is
repugnant to Judaism. The Jewish husband does not own his wife.

The lesson we learn from hekdesh, however, provides
a fresh insight. In hekdesh, when a man dedicates an object to the
temple, it is not a change in ownership, from owner to temple that is effected,
it is a change in the status of the object. It becomes a sanctified item that
cannot be used for secular purposes. The reason it is exclusive to the temple is
not a consequence of temple ownership, but rather because its inherent status is
sacred. Hence, in marriage there is no transfer of ownership—no person owns
another person—instead the woman receives a new status as eshet ish (a
married woman). It is not a consequence of her betrothal, it is the very
definition of her betrothal.

The personal status inherent in eshet ish sets the
character of Jewish marriage. The exclusive nature of the married woman may
never be compromised, diminished, or voluntarily contracted out. A number of
examples of her exclusivity are mentioned in different tracts of the Talmud:

1. If a man fulfills all the requirements of the betrothal
ceremony except that he wishes to marry only "part of" the woman, the marriage
is void. A woman must retain her integrity. She is exclusive and cannot be
shared.

2. "If a man says to a woman, ‘Today you are my wife, but
tomorrow you will not be my wife,’ will she be free without a divorce and the
marriage void?" No. Personal status (ke’dushat ha-guf) is not terminable
in advance; the duration of the status cannot be limited beforehand. The law
states that the marriage is valid, but the condition is void; and she may not
cease to be a married woman without a divorce or the husband’s death.

The Jerusalem Talmud comments, "If someone says: You are
betrothed to me for thirty days, she is betrothed forever" (that is, until
divorce or death). Commentators note that the very nature of Jewish marriage
implies that once a woman has this status conferred upon her, it is as though
her husband said, "You are betrothed to me forever."

3. The termination of eshet ish is also absolute. A
woman is either totally out of the status of "the married woman" or totally
within it. If a husband hands a divorce to his wife and says, "You are now free
to marry anyone except a certain man," the divorce is not valid and the woman is
not divorced. There is no such thing as partial divorce.

All of the variations of marriage that compromise the
integrity of a woman’s married status are violations of the sacred Jewish
concept of marriage. Commune marriages, planned serial monogamy, and
wife-swapping, are modern reflections of ancient attempts to undermine the
institution of marriage. The Torah disqualifies these options when it likens
marriage to acquisition of sacred property.

Acquisition by Consent

In Jewish law, taking a wife can never mean taking by
force. Perhaps it was to insure against the slightest possibility of this
primitive interpretation that the tradition associated the "taking" of marriage
with the "taking" involved in Abraham’s purchase of the field of Ephron. Just as
mutual consent is required for a property sale, it is an unqualified
prerequisite for marriage.

An important part of the marriage service is the assurance
of the woman’s consent. Indeed, the emphasis on the consensual nature of the
Jewish marriage contract is an ethical value that Judaism has taught the world.
Contract law in England and America derives, to a large extent, from the
Talmudic law on marriage contracts and its persistent emphasis on the voluntary
participation of both parties.

The focal phrase regarding consent in the Bible appears in
Genesis (24:58) when Rebecca’s brother and mother ask her if she is willing to
marry Isaac. The Talmud refines and develops the concept in halakhic
terms. The Talmud asks, "Why does the Mishnah begin with [a woman is
acquired] ha-ishah niknet, rather than ha-ish koneh [a man
acquires]?" The Talmud responds that the latter might imply to the uninitiated
in Jewish law acquisition in any manner, even against the woman’s will. The
emphasis on her acquisition indicates—in the very first word of the first
mishnah of the first chapter of the Talmudic tractate on marriages—that the
acquisition is dependent upon her consent.

Rashba, a noted thirteenth-century Spanish
Talmudist, asks why this emphasis was necessary, since no other contract could
ever be made without consent. The answer is that a commercial transaction,
entered into with only grudging consent made under duress, is valid. He quotes
Maimonides who holds that in civil contracts, if we are sure that both parties
consent, even though one of them does not specifically articulate "I agree," the
contract is nonetheless valid. Rashba says that while this is true in commercial
transactions, it does not hold for the marital procedure. In regard to marriage,
consent made under duress invalidates the whole process. The Jewish tradition
will not permit a marriage to begin on this basis; it will not allow any
circumstance at all to reduce the woman’s freedom to select as she desires.

Further, Kalman Kahana establishes that, with regard to
property, only rights are being transferred. Rights, of course, also require
consent; but even consent under duress is sufficient for the acquisition of a
right. In regard to marriage, however, we are creating a new status, initiating
a lifelong binding relationship that requires wholehearted, clear-headed,
unflinching consent. For property acquisition we require only haskamah
(consent), even though it be unwilling. For marriage, the law requiresdaat
(willing consent). Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin, a nineteenth-century scholar, holds
that the primary purpose of the presence of witnesses is to testify to the
woman’s willing consent.

Because clear consent is required, the ring given by the
man must be of easily determined value. What appears to be a diamond might in
fact be costume jewelry; the woman might be deceived. Perhaps she would have
given consent to the marriage, but not willing consent, had she known its true
value. She therefore has grounds for rescinding the marriage.

Because the betrothal could be executed with only a ring, a
statement, a consenting nod, and witnesses, a problem arose around mock
marriages. If the ceremony contains all the rudimentary components, but is done
in jest at a party, without willing consent, is the couple required to get a
formal divorce? There is a serious possibility that marriage might have been
halakhically triggered!

Many such curious incidents are recorded, and many
complicated Responsa were written on this subject. It is one of the reasons for
the betrothal becoming a more "official" and public occasion. Originally, the
betrothal was performed in the presence of only two witnesses in the privacy of
the home, (while only the nuptials required the minyan, quorum of ten).
Leading rabbis received questions about young girls who had been betrothed as a
trick or joke; and girls who were still minors were being proposed to and given
the ring without their parents’ knowledge. Men often proposed to very young
girls only in order to blackmail their fathers! In the year 810, to remedy this
situation, Rabbi Ahai Gaon, of eighth-century Babylonia, instituted the
requirement of the presence of ten adult males for the blessings at every
betrothal. Subsequently, the marriage contract was required to be written and
formally witnessed at the betrothal. Young girls were taught to take vows not to
accept betrothal without parental consent. If instances of mock marriages occur
today, a rabbi competent in halakhic decision should be consulted
immediately. Marriage is far too serious a matter to become a subject of jokes,
however well-intentioned. Hence the Rabbis were quite severe in their judgments.
They strove to discourage a light-hearted attitude, and to keep marriage on an
exalted level.

The concept of daat (willing consent) had many
ramifications. A woman might withhold consent until she had negotiated numerous
conditions in the contract; conversely, she might be so blinded by love or
desire that she would agree to virtually any conditions in order to marry her
suitor. If the loneliness of single life had become intolerable, she might be
prompted to accept the lesser of two evils and marry under very difficult
contractual conditions. For example, she might agree never to visit her mother.
If she did so, even many years later, her husband could claim she violated the
contract. The contract might then become void from its inception, requiring the
marriage to be rescinded. Her children could then become functional orphans, and
she would lose the monetary portion of her ketubah.

In order to defend women against unscrupulous men who might
insist on intolerable preconditions to marriage, the Rabbis slowly eliminated
all but the standard conditions of the marriage contract. Gifts of money
continue at times to be included as conditions, so long as they do not bear
adversely on the possibility of starting a family under favorable circumstances.

The law moved gradually from contract—the ability to
negotiate everything independently which, as noted, often worked against
women—to status, which by itself was a sort of guarantee of minimum livable
conditions. Her new status was designed to enable her to make a success of
marriage and family, without specific negotiations. Willing consent was not only
consent to marry a specific individual, but to enter into this new personal
status.

Rabbi Shimon Shkop, a twentieth-century Head of Yeshiva,
notes that with property there is a change of owners (baalut), but
obviously no change in the status of the land. In marriage, there is no change
of owners (be’alim): the father did not own his daughter (he had only
certain legally defined rights over a minor daughter, as he had responsibilities
for her), and the husband does not own her as a wife. It is her status that
changes. Previously, she was permitted to all men; now consorting with another
man is subject to the laws of adultery. Previously, her cohabitation even with
this chosen man was branded immoral; now it is a loyal following of the laws of
Torah and considered a great mitzvah.

The very word kinyan is used in rabbinic literature
for acquiring friends in general. The Sages say ke’neh le’kha chaver
(acquire a close friend for yourself). Similarly, the sixth chapter of the
Ethics of the Fathers is called Perek kinyan Torah, "Acquisition of
Torah"; Ben Sira (6:7) says kanita ohev be’nisayon konehu ("If you want
to acquire a friend, take him on trial, and be in no hurry to trust him"). This
implies that you must extend yourself to win good friends. In this sense, too,
kinyan is surely an appropriate term for "acquiring" a wife.

Woman’s Independence

No individual can acquire possessive rights of another
individual. Judaism believes in the sacredness and hence independence of the
human personality, and it acts on that belief. Owning another human being could
be a form of slavery. Be’nei Yisrael avadai hem ve’lo avadim le avadim—"For
the children of Israel are My servants, and not servants of servants." Children
are not the servants of their parents, wives are not the servants of husbands,
nor husbands of wives.

It cannot be overstated that acquisition in marriage is
absurdly construed by some to mean ownership of a mate. This is nothing short of
a calumny. The Torah speaks of woman’s rights (ishut); it says nothing of
a man’s rights, only of his obligations. It says nothing of a wife’s
obligations, although the Talmudic Sages developed scripturally-implied mutual
obligations and rights. Biblically, men had obligations because they had the
funds and the power, while women’s influence, though often considerable, was at
that time exercised indirectly.

Legal insight into Jewish commercial law is revealing. If
acquisition of kichah were identical in marriage as in property, the
executor of the contract would not be the man but the woman. In Jewish
commercial law, whereas the consent of both parties is required, the buyer is
passive and only accepts the transfer instrument and acquires title. It is the
seller who prepares the contract and delivers it to the buyer. By all reasonable
standards, if marriage were considered just another form of purchase the husband
would be the buyer, the wife the seller. But in Jewish law the wife does not
write the contract. There is also no discussion in any of the Jewish sources of
the possibility ofchazakah, another mode of property acquisition. When
the Talmud asks whether barter (chalippin) might be used as a mode of
acquisition in place of money, the commentators are quick to point out that
there was never an assumption that marriage is to be equated with property, and
it cannot be construed as another form of kessef.

The wife cannot remotely be considered the property of her
husband. The husband never had the power of compulsion over his wife, as was
true of English law until the end of the nineteenth century. In Jewish law, the
husband is not responsible for his wife’s crimes or her sins. Except when she is
involved in irrational behavior or starkly immoral displays, the husband had no
right to interfere in her life. Similarly, the particular heinousness of
adultery is not that it is an invasion of the husband’s private property, it is
a sin against G‑d that threatens the whole structure of family and society.

Indeed Maimonides writes that "If a woman says: ‘My husband
is objectionable to me, I cannot live with him... I hold him in contempt and
cannot willingly agree to be intimate with him,’ we compel him to divorce her
forthwith, for she is not a captive to be compelled to intimacy with one she
hates." Rabbenu Tam, of twelfth-century France, and Rosh, of
thirteenth-century Germany, two leading authorities, disagree because they fear
this kind of reasoning may come to be used indiscriminately as an excuse for
obtaining a divorce. However, we may infer that if it were humanly possible to
be certain of the genuineness of the objection in each case, it would constitute
grounds for compelling a divorce.

A married woman is considered legally and actually to be in
her own possession. In reference to different subjects in the laws of marriage,
two medieval authorities make pointed statements. Rashba: "The woman’s
person is not acquired by the husband and this marriage ceremony is not a
property transaction." Ramban: "She has never been the property of her
husband and is in her own possession."

A woman cannot be willfully compelled by her husband to
lower her social status or economic level. Furthermore, if she and her husband
are living in her mother-in-law’s home and a quarrel develops between the two
women, the wife can insist that the couple move out at the pain of compelling
him to divorce her.

In classic Jewish literature, relations between husband and
wife were based on mutual trust and respect, not on threats and browbeating.
Wife-beating, so common in the western world, is considered to be utterly
reprehensible by Judaism. Historically, it has occurred very rarely in Jewish
families. If a man was found to be a wife-beater, he had to pay damages and
provide her with separate maintenance. Failing that, the wife had valid grounds
for compelling a divorce. By and large, men were prevented from such brutality
by the force of public distaste. Jewish men were commanded to love and honor
their wives by the words of the marriage contract, ke’hilkhot guvrin
ye’hudain—as Jewish men are accustomed to do.

According to the Torah, the husband also has no legal
rights to, or power over, his wife’s personal finances. In every period of
Jewish history, including the early patriarchal era and the Middle Ages, the
wife had an independent right to property. Technicalities concerning the wife’s
property fill many folios of the Talmud. The rabbinic laws concerning use and
maintenance of the property were designed for the furtherance of domestic
tranquility (she’lom bayit), which they considered superior to all other
considerations.

Throughout the history of Judaism, women have had the right
to work. In fact, during the Middle Ages, Jewish women often earned the major
portion of the family budget. They engaged in a wide variety of commercial
occupations, especially money lending, a business often forced upon the Jewish
community by the restrictive policy of the State regarding ownership of real
estate. Community organizations frequently appointed women as trustees with the
right to invest funds at their own discretion. Impeding a wife’s right to work,
which is a complicated legal issue, is considered by the Talmud to be legitimate
grounds for compelling divorce. Such laws are not actionable outside of Israel
today, as no divorce can be compelled by a Jewish court in the Diaspora.

The Rabbis guaranteed a married woman the right to work,
but in the name of healthy family unity they decreed that her earnings must go
to the family fund, just as her husband’s earnings go to support her and the
family. If she relinquishes her husband’s support she may keep her wages. (The
law does not give the husband the opportunity to refuse to support his wife when
she works.) For the sake of domestic peace, the Rabbis ruled that there should
be a household division of labor; (e.g., if the husband works the wife has to
keep house or, if they are wealthy, at least manage the house. The wife,
however, can refuse to do housework if she herself works and pays someone else
to clean house in her stead).

These legal decisions clearly and unequivocally reflect the
ideal of the independence of Jewish women. Rabbi Johanan said, "Thou shalt call
Me ishi (my husband) and shalt call me no longer baali (my
master)" (Hosea 2:18). The technical formal name for the husband after betrothal
may be baal [master] and the process of acquisition kinyan. The
true title for the married man is ish, and for betrothal, kiddushin
[sanctification].

Different Roles

The woman has the last, albeit silent, word at the wedding
service. It is the man’s role to pursue, woo, and propose to her, but she must
give positive willing consent to the proposal in order for the marriage to be
legal. The witnesses have to be conscious of that daat; it is central to
the entire service. Furthermore, she must receive the ring with the
understanding that despite her acknowledged prior consent, this specific act is
considered to clinch the betrothal, and therefore requires positive intent. The
moment she receives the ring, she undergoes the momentous change in personal
status.

The groom’s role of initiator places him in a busy,
hovering position at the wedding. Natan hu, amar hu—he must give the ring
and he must propose marriage by enunciating this formula. In return for her
consent he presents her with a ketubah, in which he records his binding
obligations.

The tenor of the ceremony is an accurate reflection of the
halakahic drama that is the core of the wedding. The bride’s role is both
veiled and central, she remains seated while attendants care for details.
Similarly, the procession places the bride in the final and climactic role, as
the groom and his escorts (shushvinin) anticipate the final arrival of
the queen bride.

A clear understanding of the nature of the marriage
contract is required to understand the delicate sense of balance in the wedding
ceremony. In American law a contract is bilateral, and both parties participate
in its signing. In Jewish law the contract is also bilateral, but the formal
instrument is unilateral. Consent is required of both parties, but only the
groom gives the contract, and only the bride receives it. All Jewish contracts
take this form. The seller’s role may be physically passive, but it is legally
active, since the kinyan is concluded not in the act of giving, but in
the act of receiving. When the bride receives the ring she closes the circuit.
That is the dramatic gesture that signals "willing consent" to the witnesses.

Noble and well-meaning attempts have been made to give the
bride a more active role in the wedding ceremony by the exchange of rings or an
innovative recitation. These changes may not invalidate the marriage, but they
can obfuscate the authentic message of the tradition, and introduce
artificiality into the beautiful, profound, sacred, and historic wedding
ceremony. Modern woman has indeed suffered some disabilities from legal
ordinances and local usage or ancient custom, but her personal integrity and
worth have always been maintained.

An unsurpassed insight into woman’s role comes from the
medieval Rabbi Isaac Arama. The Bible reports that Rachel was deeply distressed
over her inability to bear Jacob children, while her sister Leah was able to
bear children easily.

"And when Rachel saw that she bore Jacob no children,
Rachel envied her sister; and said unto Jacob: ‘Give me children, else I die.’
And Jacob’s anger was kindled against Rachel; and he said: ‘Am I in G‑d’s stead,
who had withheld from thee the fruit of the womb?’" (Genesis 30:1-2).

Rabbi Arama says that Rachel’s cry indicates that she did
not fully appreciate her role in life. Woman has two names given her in the
Torah, which represent two aspects of her personality and her goal on earth. One
is ishah, woman, a person of integrity who stands opposite and equal to
ish, man. This is what she was called by G‑d when she was created out of
Adam’s rib. She was given another name just before she gave birth to the first
child. This name was chavah, which means "mother of all living things." A
woman is both chavah, a mother, and ishah, a woman. She is
ishah in terms of her own personality, the integrity of her thoughts, and
her relationship with G‑d and with man. Because she is able to reproduce a human
being, she is also chavah, an additional glory that man can never know.

A woman who is barren and cannot fulfill her chavah
role remains an ishah, a female person—alive, aware, concerned, and
creative in other spheres. When Rachel says, "Give me children, else I die," she
denies the value of ishah. Man and woman have the same value before G‑d.
Placed at opposite ends of the scale, unlike in terms of temperament and organic
structure, each balances the other. Man and woman, bride and groom, Jacob and
Rachel, ish and ishah.

Taking Is Giving

A man takes a wife and begins a life of giving. Only in the
intimacy of marriage can one reach the higher levels of the ethical life, levels
at which one can rejoice in supporting, helping, and strengthening others
without expectation of reward. The taking in marriage cannot survive without the
commitment to give. This "taking-giving" moral lesson is best described by Rabbi
Eliyahu Dessler, a twentieth-century ethicist. "Is the giving a consequence of
love, or is perhaps the reverse true: the love a result of giving? We usually
think it is love which causes giving. But the truth is that giving often brings
about love, for the same reason that a person loves what he himself created or
nurtured: he recognizes it as part of himself... On this basis, we can
understand yet another remarkable fact. Why do we find so often that this
husband-wife affection does not seem to last?... People are generally ‘takers’
not ‘givers.’...Each begins to demand from the other the fulfillment of
his or her obligations. When demand begins, love departs."

Rabbi Moses Sofer, the nineteenth-century Hungarian author
of Chatam Sofer, refers to the analogy of Abraham and the field of
Ephron. "Husband and wife, at the outset of their marriage, are each ‘buyers’
and ‘sellers.’ The husband ‘buys’ a wife and writes her a marriage contract. The
wife ‘buys’ a husband, who is obligated by the Torah to love, honor and support
his wife. She is his ‘field.’ Her field stands le’avdah u-le’shamrah [as
the Garden of Eden], to be ‘worked and watched.’ …and he is her ‘laborer’..."

The field is not acquired in order to be abandoned or
abused. kichah implies an intention on the part of the buyer to give to
it of himself, to produce, make an investment in the future, strive for a
fulfillment of dreams. The wife is the field, to be tended and cared for; the
husband is the laborer, "implanting the seed." From their interaction comes the
great good of family living, a home for companionship and the birthplace of
future generations.